


Seldom All They Seem

by Becky_Blue_Eyes



Series: Becky's Rhaenys Fantasy AUs [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Maleficent (2014) Fusion, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Evil, Gen, Good and Evil, I cannot emphasize that enough, Maleficent is Rhaenys's Fairy Godmother, Rhaenys is called Aurora, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becky_Blue_Eyes/pseuds/Becky_Blue_Eyes
Summary: It is not every day that her presence is invoked. No, it is a rarity indeed, a rarity that requires violence, and rage, and utmost malevolence. Many people have forgotten her name entirely.And yet, is there not violence in how this nursery room has been torn to shreds? Is there not rage in the blood painting the floors, the walls, the ceiling? And is there not utmost malevolence in this dying princess’s eyes, the malevolence of a mother who has lost one child and refuses to lose another? “Save her,” she rasps and all the magic in the air ripples with her wrath. “I give unto you my only daughter, and I beseech you to save her!”Maleficent smiles. It’s been a very long time since she’s been a fairy godmother. It’s time for her to remind the world of what that means.A crackfic oneshot where Maleficent (yes, that Maleficent) takes little Rhaenys Targaryen as her fairy goddaughter, and raises her to be a Mistress of Evil (yes, that Mistress of Evil). Not to be taken at all seriously as I wrote this to cheer myself up lol
Series: Becky's Rhaenys Fantasy AUs [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886038
Comments: 19
Kudos: 42





	Seldom All They Seem

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Work on my multichapter WIP? Not in a million years lmaooooo
> 
> But yeah, I’ve been in a low emotional space due to five of my friends testing positive for COVID-19; my college classes being a nightmare; and seasonal affective depression. So I watched Malefienct/my most beloved trash, and whipped this up real quick. I hope you enjoy it, since it is in a realm of “crack taken seriously” I rarely enter lol

It is not every day that her presence is invoked. No, it is a rarity indeed, a rarity that requires violence, and rage, and utmost malevolence. Many people have forgotten her name entirely.

Before, when magic was as thick as honey in the air and the seas and the earth, everyone knew her name. They knew of fairy godmothers, and the ends those blessed mothers would go for their fairy godchildren. Some, like the Mother herself, became gods to those who knew little better. And some, like Maleficent, were feared and shunned until the name faded from memory.

Maleficent doesn’t let it bother her too much, of course. Her powers are not constrained to mere fairy tale work, no—she is a true fae, a Mistress of Evil. When the winds blow down the sailing masts and the plague sweeps through country villages and when men’s folly brings them to grief and destruction, she is there. She is always there, always watching, always spreading her magic through what avenues remain to her and shaping the world as she pleases. It pleases her to be evil, as there _must_ be evil to balance out the good. She respects the good work that good fae do, as they respect the wickedness that drips from her horns.

Wickedness incarnate, she admires just how spiteful the House of Targaryen is. Spiteful and ruinous! The destruction of the last dragons to be found east of Yi-Ti, the death of thousands across the realm in fire and blood, the absolute salacious depravity of brothers and sisters fornicating. Maleficent loves to see it, even if some of their escapades are distasteful. Her favorite shades of evil involve active players who know exactly the damage they bring upon each other. There is no enjoyment in watching children die for other men’s evil. What use is there in these little innocents piling up in senseless body counts? Before they could ever decide for themselves if they’d ever indulge in good or evil? Life snuffed out like slapping candles—such a waste.

But that is the worst of evils, and as its Mistress she bares the responsibility of seeing it through. The violence, the rage, the utmost malevolence. It leads her to a castle in the midst of a burning city, where an absolute brute of a man smashes an infant prince’s head against a wall. Then he rapes the poor mother while covered in her son’s blood and gore. Maleficent shakes her head in pity. She made sure the child was unaware of what became of himself, quick and painless and an easy cross over. The fae serving the Mother shall see to him in the seven heavens now.

She reaches out to dull the senses of the princess mother, but then there is a delightful surprise. Her daughter, hardly more than three, runs into the room and slams her fists against the brute’s back. It is just enough to distract him, just enough for the princess mother to grab a knife from her bedside table and sheath it into the monster’s eyes. Maleficent doesn’t dull his senses and lets him enjoy the pain of a sudden and shameful death; she never pretended to be _that_ impartial to the shades of evil.

Then the princess mother wails, and drags herself from her bed to cradle her son’s corpse. She is bleeding heavily from a stab wound tearing across her stomach, and Maleficent sighs. Such a pity, such a waste. She reaches out again to dull her senses for the cross over, and is surprised again. “Maleficent,” the woman rasps.

She knows her name? Maleficent reveals herself in physical form, towering over the corpses in the room. The woman does not quail in fear, no, she smiles with bloodied teeth. How did she know to invoke her in this hour of evil? Maleficent’s name has been long forgotten, long lost to the tales of time…

And yet, is there not violence in how this nursery room has been torn to shreds? Is there not rage in the blood painting the floors, the walls, the ceiling? And is there not utmost malevolence in this dying princess’s eyes, the malevolence of a mother who has lost one child and refuses to lose another? This is her element, this element of evil, and evil comes in all forms and functions.

“Save her,” she rasps and all the magic in the air ripples with her wrath. “I give unto you my only daughter, and I beseech you to save her!”

Maleficent smiles.

Well, why not? It’s been a very long time since she’s been a fairy godmother. It’s time for her to remind the world of what that means; it’s well past time for men to face the wrath from the little innocents they kill. Evil unto evil, and here Maleficent is offered the sweetest of apprentices.

“I accept,” she murmurs. Then she soothes the dying woman’s soul until she is carried away by the Strangest of fae of all, with her little son. Now just the girl remains, with her big brown eyes reflecting the flames from beyond the window. Maleficent kneels down to take her little hands, to brush away the tears from her cheeks. “Sweetling,” Maleficent croons, “do not weep. Everything shall be well.”

She carries the girl away beyond the mortal veil to the realm of fae, of fantasy, of fury. When the little girl looks back to see the glimpse of her mother and brother wrapped in red cloaks and given to a king—Maleficent grins. Oh, there is such hate in that little heart. It will do her well.

* * *

The girl’s birth name is Rhaenys, Maleficent learns. But that Rhaenys is dead. No, now she is Aurora, and she is as beautiful and treacherous as the dawn.

There they walk between the veils of the world, with the starry twilight gleaming in Aurora’s hair. For many days and nights, Aurora weeps for her dead mother and brother. Then the delights of the fae realm tease away her sorrows and leave her with the joys of chasing after will-o’-the-wisps and stealing wishes from fire breathing genies. The sorrows Maleficent allows to come and go as the tides as the years pass like dreams. Let her mourn, let her process her sadness; it is her right to feel that grief. And let that grief turn to rage, to the passion for justice.

Let it turn to utmost malevolence, and let her become entirely evil, as there is no better fate to be had.

Hate changes her. The entirety of the fae realm, with its glimmering magics and shimmering denizens, changes Aurora. To Maleficent’s utmost delight, she becomes a shapeshifter. It is on account of her bloodlines, as her ancestors once knew how to change between dragons and humans, humans and water sirens. So it is easy for her to change her hair to black then red then gold; her eyes green then blue then amber; her skin a thousand shades of olive. And her voice is as sweet as spring, and her steps light as morning rain, and her heart crackling with equal parts joy and ill intentions.

Maleficent trains her well. As she can pass between the mortal veils and change her shape at will without being invoked, she can do things even Maleficent cannot. Maleficent can only appear when invoked, can only intervene when it is her due. Aurora, however—Aurora has all of the worlds in the palm of her hand.

First, she simply spreads rumors between milkmaids in a land filled with green fields and snow-covered mountains until scandal rips the village apart. Then she steals important information from an emperor’s vizier and gives half of it to the enemy and the other half to a trusted friend. The emperor doesn’t know who to blame and so blames everyone, and so begins the end of his dynasty.

All the while Aurora smiles, and sings sweetly, and sows discord. When humans look into her face, do they see the evil lurking behind her bright brown eyes? The other fae teach Aurora their favorite tricks as well, as it has been so long since a fairy godmother has brought a fairy goddaughter to them. How to conjure gold from her pockets, how to turn another’s gold into dirt. How to kiss a man and learn their language, and how to breathe death upon their sleep. Maleficent is not jealous. No, she makes sure her goddaughter gets the utmost best; it is what she promised, after all.

Her final test is whether Aurora can abide by the worst of evils. Murder. Rape. Abuse. The death of innocent children. Those are the evils that come and go every day, despite the very best of good to counteract it. It is their solemn duty to ensure that evil never prevails for too long, but they cannot stifle it entirely.

Slaver’s Bay is a cesspool of miserable evil that lesser evil fae dare not touch. But Maleficent is Mistress of Evil, and Aurora her apprentice. They must bear the pain of what befell Aurora’s mother and brother and bear it silently. They may dull the senses, yes, they may take mercy on victims. But evil must take its course, just as good must. And Maleficent sees the tears spilling down Aurora’s cheeks, the fury crackling in her clenched fists.

“Come here sweetling,” Maleficent murmurs, and wraps Aurora into a hug. Aurora presses her face into her robes so that she doesn’t see what the rapist does to his victims. But there is no avoiding it; Maleficent wishes it were not so, but that is their destiny. “You can walk away from this, my child. You can marry a gentle fae, or a changeling, and live in the forests where the dawn always glitters between the trees. Say the word and I shall take you away from here.”

Aurora looks up at her with burning eyes. The eyes of her dying mother, alive and vicious. “I must stay,” she whispers. “I must understand evil, so that when I am Mistress alongside you, I will make sure it is always balanced. Evil, and good, together.”

Maleficent cups her cheek. “And if it is unbalanced?”

“This—this rapist will not be caught. But he will die when the floorboards of his home fall beneath him and he starves to death after weeks screaming beneath everyone’s feet. His victims shall sleep easy after that.” Maleficent shivers at the certainty in Aurora’s voice. She is right. Such is the way of the world—perhaps there is no true justice for his victims, but the scale balances in the end and he has a heavy weight ready to fall upon his shoulders and smash his head in. Aurora bows her head. Then she asks, “What of Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister? When will the scales align for them?”

“My child, would you like to see it done yourself?”

Aurora gasps. “But that is not—”

“Your mother and brother were slaughtered because of them. Your father as well, the entirety of your Houses abused and destroyed. You are still connected to this mortal world, you still have the right of revenge. And while I may not intervene in the lives of humans,” and Maleficent smiles with all of her glittering teeth, “you are my only goddaughter. I would go to the ends of reality for you.”

Aurora hugs her tightly, and Maleficent kisses her forehead. May her mother and brother rest easy; Maleficent shall see this through.

* * *

Quite the cuckoldry has taken place in Westeros, as none of the king’s children are actually his own. Rather they are the queen’s and the queen’s twin brother’s! Maleficent cackles at the depravity and Aurora wrinkles her nose. Then Aurora puts the evidence in place for the Hand to come across. The Hand, and the Master of Whispers, and the goldcloaks, and the bards around Kings Landing, and every major lord in the Seven Kingdoms. Everyone but Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister—Aurora has special plans for them.

Aurora has plans, and a flair for the dramatic. It manifests as her taking the form of a Lannister girl, Myrielle or Rosamund or whomever, and entering the court. She is the one to whisper loudly to a courtier that the king’s children are blessed with their mother’s nose and their uncle’s cheekbones. That courtier whispers to another, and another, all the way up to the Hand who connects the dots Aurora has drawn for him. Then while he and Tywin argue furiously about Cersei Lannister’s virtues, Aurora takes the shape of a maid. She finds out which rooms Cersei and her brother Jaime like to fornicate in, and waits, and waits. Then when Tywin poisons the Hand, she leads Robert on a merry chase down to those very rooms.

Maleficent knows how this hurts her darling goddaughter, to pretend to seduce the king who wanted her family murdered. She marvels at how Aurora never breaks her façade of flirtation. Not even when Robert paws at her breasts, not even when he sluts his desire for her. She only breaks when she leads Robert right into Cersei and Jaime’s arms—then she smiles with glittering teeth and vicious malevolence gleaming in her dark eyes.

At their trial, all of the seeds Aurora sews come to fruition. Everyone from Lord Tyrell to the meanest peasant in Flea Bottom know of the affair and Robert is incandescent with rage. His poor false children weep into their uncle’s arms, and Tywin threatens war, and everything is an uproar…

Aurora steps through the crowd, with her black hair in ringlets to her hips and her dark eyes like flinty obsidian and her olive skin glowing beneath orange and red silks. She is Rhaenys Martell Targaryen returned to the earth, and she smiles. “You killed my mother and brother for an evil cause,” she says. “The gods have judged you, and now it is your time to die.”

There are many forms Maleficent has. She is commonly invoked as an impossibly tall woman with horns, sharp cheekbones, glittering teeth and glowing green eyes. But sometimes she is a wraith of shadows. Sometimes she is a flock of ravens crowing at the moon. And sometimes she is a dragon.

She manifests as a giant dragon with black scales shimmering a sickly green in the torch light, right in the middle of the hall. The poor fools scream for their lives. But this is Aurora’s bidding, this is _Rhaenys’s_ evil manifesting from the day her mother and brother died before her eyes. There is no stopping it. Maleficent’s flames are bright green and Elia’s only daughter screams her delight as everything and everyone around them burns and dies.

The Iron Throne itself melts at Aurora’s feet, and for a moment Maleficent imagines her daughter as Queen of Westeros with a Valyrian steel crown. She shakes her head. No. What is a mere queen before a Mistress of Evil? And there is nothing as evil as this moment of pure revenge, of burning alive her enemies no matter their innocence, of bearing all the pain and rage of years in one glorious moment.

When the ashes settle, Aurora has scaly dragon wings growing from her shoulders, and her cheekbones are sharper than before. She is as beautiful and as treacherous as the dawn glimmering through the smoke. Maleficent beams, and sweeps her into a hug. “My darling girl,” she croons, “you are ready.”

They take flight together, and beneath them kings Landing falls into chaos and pandemonium at the destruction of the Red Keep. Through the mortal veils they pass, and all the magic in the realms crackle in their hearts.

Elia’s daughter, Maleficent’s daughter—Rhaenys, Aurora, she is happy and alive and none shall ever stop her.

They are the Mistresses of Evil.

Westeros is going to fall into civil war with its king dead.

They have a lot of work to do.

* * *

Maleficent: Angelina Jolie

Rhaenys/Aurora: Ramina Torabi

**Author's Note:**

> It was interesting trying to write characters that are blatantly evil, but not…evil. Does that make sense? It’s their job as Mistress of Evil to enable and bear evil, but that doesn’t mean they have to enjoy the worst aspects of it. Maleficent says the best evil is when everyone involved is a happily participating party lmao

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Ring of Quartz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723929) by [Wintercameandwent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintercameandwent/pseuds/Wintercameandwent)




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